


you know you can't have me (but you kiss me anyway)

by ohlawsons



Series: steal the stars [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11769621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: It’s just meant to be a fun night out – until Sophie begins talking about the past and Reyes begins thinking about the future, and all the pieces of a long-term plan begin to fall into place.Or; Sloane’s party, with all the kissing and drinking and heartfelt rooftop conversations it entails.





	you know you can't have me (but you kiss me anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> believe it or not, this is the drastically cut down and edited version. also i didn’t even realize at first you could get a rooftop kiss?? i picked the “wow was that a genuine answer” dialogue for sophie and listen i have Feelings about reyes’ “i’m always genuine in my own way” line okay

If she’s being honest, Sloane’s party is the most fun she’s had since arriving in Andromeda.

Sophie won’t give any of the credit to Sloane herself, of course, but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying the company and drinks and atmosphere. The fact that it’s Reyes she’s accompanying just makes the night even better; neither of them have called it a date, not yet, but she suspects that’s what he intends it to be, and even if Sloane ends up kicking them out — or perhaps _especially_ if she does, because annoying the Outcast leader is a top priority for Sophie — she’s fairly certain this will end up being one of the best first dates she’s ever had.

It’s still relatively early in the evening when Reyes pulls her aside, and Sophie knows him well enough by now to recognize that distracted glint in his eyes, like he’s occupied with something more important than the party. She doesn’t even mind when he says he’ll be right back and slips away, leaving her with Kheema and some fruity angaran drink that would be vastly improved if it had come with a little umbrella.

“So.” She leans back against the bar once he’s gone, breaking eye-contact with Kheema for a moment to give Sloane an exaggerated wink — the Outcast leader barely reacts, but the way her jaw tenses is enough for Sophie — and takes a slow sip of whatever it is she’s drinking. “I hear Reyes likes to talk about me.”

Kheema barks out a laugh at that. “All good things, I assure you.”

“Just _good_? I guess I’ll have to do better.”

“He has very high hopes for you,” the angara amends. “I believe he actually called you something like ‘the future of Kadara’ the other day.” She pauses, giving a pointed glance towards Sloane as if to remind Sophie where they still are. “He’s so certain of all the good you can do here.”

“‘Future of Kadara,’ hmm?” Raising her voice, Sophie adds, “But I wouldn’t ever _dare_ step on Sloane’s toes.”

One of Sloane’s already-clenched fists tightens, and Sophie wonders if she maybe should wait until _after_ the party to push her luck; she wants at least one more drink and the opportunity to dance with Reyes before she gets kicked out.

When she turns back to Kheema, she’s smiling and giving her head a slow shake. “I can see why he likes you.”

“Which is why he’s abandoned me, right?” It isn’t that Reyes’ absence upsets Sophie, necessarily; she hasn’t had time to properly bother Umi, yet, and there’s a tipsy turian who’d been flirting with her when she walked in and Sophie’s _determined_ to get her out on the dance floor at some point in the evening. But Reyes is the biggest reason Sophie had been looking forward to the party — she would’ve come for the free drinks, regardless, but it wouldn’t be as enjoyable — and now she doesn’t even know where he’s gone off to.

It’s barely been ten minutes, but Sophie’s beginning to get restless, not knowing where Reyes is. She tries making small talk with Kheema, covering everything from Sloane to the Roekaar to the Nexus before the angara shoos her away and tells her to just go find Reyes. She doesn’t have to be told twice, and discards her mostly untouched drink on a table — it’s too sweet, and reminds her of Brazilian summers and beach trips and her family, and tonight isn’t a night for those memories — as she leaves. With a grin, Sophie tosses an innuendo and finger guns at Kaetus on her way out, then saunters down the hallway and takes slow, winding steps as she wonders where exactly Reyes has gone.

“SAM,” she calls out in a sing-song voice, “do you have any way to magically track Reyes?”

“ _No_ ,” SAM answers over their shared channel, “ _but I am picking up Mr. Vidal_ _’s voice signature —_ _although it_ _’s faint. I believe he’s nearby, likely in one of the adjacent rooms_.”

Sophie has no interest in poking her head into every room in the hallway — showing up to the party was bad enough, but snooping around the Outcast headquarters will _definitely_ cause trouble with Sloane.

Well, _more_ trouble.

“Reyes,” she calls out as she continues walking, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets; for once, she’s wearing clothes of her own, rather than something covered in Initiative logos, and she’s beginning to regret it. Her normal attire is _far_ more comfortable than the boots and jacket she scrounged up from her personal belongings, but Sophie — for reasons she’s now having trouble recalling — thought it would be better to look decent than it would be to feel comfortable.

Sophie’s about to call out Reyes’ name again when SAM speaks up. “ _These rooms are closed off,_ ” he observes, “ _but I_ _’m detecting a heat signature from the storage room to your left. Additionally, Mr. Vidal’s_ —”

But Sophie’s already turned on her heel and pushed her way into the room, finding Reyes kneeling down and frowning at one of the dozens of crates that are stacked up around him. He shoots up as soon as Sophie enters, hands held up and eyes wide — the very picture of innocence, she thinks — and sputters out an excuse.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

She cocks an eyebrow upwards. “Really? Because it looks like you’re stealing shit from Sloane.”

Reyes’ hands drop and he gives a little shrug. “Well, yes, but— You’ll see,” he promises. “And it’s not _shit_. It’s quite literally _priceless_.”

“ _Shit_ in the general sense. I don’t care _what_ it is, if it’s Sloane’s then I want it.” Sophie clambers over the row of low crates that separates her from Reyes, scanning the rest of the storage room before she plants her hands on her hips. “So? What are we looking for?”

He watches her for a moment, expression unreadable. “I have a shipment number,” he reveals, a slow grin beginning to form as his eyes light up with a mischievous look that convinces Sophie that this is _definitely_ better than staying at the party and getting kicked out.

“And?”

“I think it’s up here, but there’s no organization to any of this. Not that I can tell, at least.” Reyes checks something on his omni-tool, then hoists himself up onto one of the nearby crates and begins climbing up to the top of one of the stacks.

Not one to pass up the opportunity to show off, Sophie furrows her brow and gives her fingers a little waggle. “Watch out.” She holds her hands out as she concentrates, hoping that SAM can help fine-tune her otherwise reckless biotics; the crate Reyes is heading towards begins to glow with a violet halo, and slowly slides off from the top of the stack. She sticks her tongue out in concentration — a subconscious habit she’s never been able to kick — as she guides the crate to the floor and it lands with a dull _thud_.

“Neat trick,” Reyes says dryly, now sitting atop the stack where the crate had been only moments before. He makes his way back down, and as he lands beside the crate, a voice calls out. It’s unfamiliar, and coming towards them; Sophie reaches instinctively for a gun and Reyes immediately begins to survey the area, but it’s clear that there’s nowhere to hide and they’re about to have a lot to answer for. “ _Shit_ ,” he mutters beneath his breath as he turns back to Sophie, and it’s as much an apology as a curse.

She doesn’t have a gun on her, but that doesn’t mean that Sophie’s unarmed, necessarily; she holds up a hand, alight with the violet glow of her biotics, in a silent question as she nods towards the door. Reyes gives her an odd look, and as he realizes what she’s suggesting he quickly shakes his head and grabs her hand to pull it back down.

“This area’s off limits.”

They’re out of time, and judging by the guard’s bored tone they have only a few seconds before they’re spotted. Without any other choice in sight, Sophie falls back to the one thing she knows will work.

“You know that thing they say about stage fright and imagining people naked?” she asks, letting out a hard sigh as Reyes frowns in confusion. “It might help to make it more believable, is all I’m saying.” She grabs at his shirt to pull him closer, and before their lips have even met, Reyes has caught on; he pushes Sophie back against another stack of crates, one hand reaching for the back of her thigh and hitching her leg up to rest against his hip.

Sophie can’t keep a gasp of surprise from escaping; this is far from the first time she’s kissed him — she’s lost track, at this point, of how many times they’ve had sex in his room in Tartarus — but this is _different_ , it’s rougher and more insistent and it’s all too easy for her to melt into him and forget that this is, technically, no more than a distraction.

She presses closer to him, one hand curling in his hair, and her grip draws a low groan from Reyes; encouraged by his reaction, she catches his bottom lip in her teeth, unable to hold back a grin at the sound he makes in response. His grasp on her thigh tightens — to the point that Sophie wonders if it’ll bruise, and the thought sends a pleasant shiver through her — but then his hand is gone, and he’s holding Sophie out at arms’ length.

“I think we’re clear.” His words are breathless, but Reyes seems to have otherwise maintained his composure; he smooths his hair back and there’s nothing more than a slight flush to his cheeks to hint that anything had even happened.

“Right, yeah,” Sophie says, tone forcibly light as she tries to recollect her scattered thoughts. “Hell of a distraction.”

Reyes takes a step closer — or maybe Sophie does, she isn’t sure; she’s too preoccupied with the way his hand settles at her waist — and gives his head a little tilt. “It was a good idea.” He pulls away before she can say anything, already rummaging through the crate Sophie had retrieved. “And now, the reason for all of this— Ah! Here it is.”

Leaning against a crate, Sophie crosses her arms and does her best to emulate the same casual nonchalance that Reyes exudes. “And here I thought the whole reason for the party was to spend some quality time together,” she drawls, pleased at the even tone she manages. Reyes holds up the bottle he’s pulled out, flashing her a triumphant grin, but Sophie squints down at the label and shrugs. “Look, I’m all for stealing Sloane’s booze, but why stop at a single bottle of whiskey when there’s—”

He tsks, cutting off her protests with a disappointed frown. “This isn’t simply _a_ single bottle of whiskey. It’s _the_ single bottle of whiskey — Andromeda’s only Mount Milgrom—”

“ _Sophie._ ” Reyes’ words fade into the background as Sophie’s focus shifts to SAM. “ _There are more guards approaching, and I_ _’m uncertain if your methods would work as a distraction a second time._ ”

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” Sophie says, interrupting Reyes and nodding her head towards the door. “Company.”

He stands, cradling the whiskey securely in one arm and holds his other hand out to Sophie. “Shall we?” he offers with a grin.

“I still think we could just take them all out right now. Probably save some trouble later.”

“I’m sure it would,” Reyes agrees, “but without guns or biotics, I’d be at a disadvantage, wouldn’t you think?” He gives his outstretched hand a little flourish, and Sophie takes it with a grin of her own.

“You could hide behind me. I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I doubt that. You’re a _terrible_ gossip.”

She relents with a nod and a shrug, and lets Reyes lead her down the hallway at a brisk jog, racing past the group of guards heading towards them. Reyes lets out a triumphant laugh as they pass, and Sophie turns to give a sloppy salute with her free hand; she nearly stumbles as Reyes tugs her along, but once she regains her footing she easily keeps pace with him.

“Where are we going?” she calls, breathless, as they emerge into the market.

“You'll see!”

They're causing a stir, running through the crowded central plaza of Kadara Port; whether it's the way they're laughing as they run or the fact that there isn’t anyone following them, no one tries to stop them and they make it all the way out of the market to a row of apartments on the edge of the city, breathing heavily but uninterrupted.

“You know how there's thing called _the loop_?” Sophie asks between breaths as they round a corner and slow to a brisk walk. “I like being kept _in_ it.”

“I'll keep that in mind next time you _ambush_ me like that.” There’s a tone of mock indignance in Reyes’ voice, but the corner of his mouth curls into a hint of a grin.

“Whatever. You liked it.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

She laughs, and the warm sound fills the alleyway they’re walking down; between Reyes’ grin and their still-clasped hands, if Sophie ignores the spike of now-fading adrenaline the night is almost starting to feel like a real, proper date. Of course, any evening that involves crashing a party for the sole purpose of stealing whiskey is _far_ better than any typical date night, in Sophie’s opinion.

Reyes leads them down the alleyway, eventually stopping in front of what looks like a warehouse, with a narrow staircase leading up to the second floor and what looks like deliberately placed crates, stacked for easy access to the roof. Sophie gives him a quizzical look and Reyes just grins. “Trust me.”

She follows him up the stairs, and when he begins to climb up on the crates to the roof she waits, hands on her hips, and gives him an appreciative once-over. “Nice ass.”

He stills, shaking his head as he chuckles. “Are you coming, or do I have to drink this alone?”

She waits until he’s all the way up on the roof, and he turns back to stare down at her. Motioning for him to move back, Sophie takes a step and propels herself upwards with her biotics, landing softly beside Reyes. “I never let _anyone_ drink alone.”

“That’s fortunate, because I was looking forward to the company.”

With a wink in Sophie’s direction, Reyes sits on the edge of the rooftop, taking a long drink of the whiskey. She doesn’t join him, not just yet, and stands just behind him and plants her hands on her hips; from the warehouse they’re at, they have a view of the entire Port and the Badlands and mountains that stretch on beyond the city. She stares out over it all, eyes first tracing the crowded streets, then the winding rivers then the line of the mountaintops.

Kadara’s _beautiful_ , laid out in front of her like this, with all its dusty scrubland and the vibrant sulphur pools that dot the landscape. She’s looked out over cliffsides on Eos and Voeld, and peered out over the edge of Mithrava on Havarl, and it’s difficult to go _anywhere_ on Elaaden without feeling the immense size of the planet, but here and now on Kadara -- it’s like she’s seeing it for the first time all over again, getting a glimpse of the breadth and the beauty that she couldn’t ever possibly catch while taking the Nomad through the valleys.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Reyes’ voice pulls Sophie abruptly from her thoughts, and she turns to him with a start. “Yeah,” she agrees as soon as she’s regained herself. “It’s always different, seeing it like this instead of being out there, down on the ground.”

His lips purse and he gives her a thoughtful look. “It must not be that special to you,” he reasons. “You must do this all the time.”

Sophie shrugs. “Sure. Doesn’t make it any less amazing. Standing out on a cliff looking over the sand dunes on Elaaden will still take my breath away ten years from now, same as it did the first time.”

“Is that why you came to Andromeda?” Reyes asks suddenly, leaning back a bit to study Sophie. There’s curiosity in his gaze, but there’s something else, too — surprise, and she thinks she catches a flash of regret before he turns away and takes another drink. He doesn’t look back at her, but when she doesn’t answer he prompts, “The views? The exploration?”

Sophie isn’t even sure how to answer; even Scott never really knew why she came, and if she were being honest _she_ hasn’t even figured it out yet. She’d shown up at the last possible minute because she didn’t like the idea of never seeing her brother again, and there hadn’t been anything in the Milky Way to keep her from just joining him.

“I guess… I didn’t really have a reason for coming,” she says slowly, lowering herself to sit beside Reyes. “There just wasn’t a reason for me to stay, either.”

He gives her a slow, understanding nod and silently passes her the bottle. As she takes an experimental sip — and it’s _good_ , surprisingly so — he asks, “Nothing? I can’t imagine a woman like you wouldn’t leave behind something or someone worth missing.”

Sophie takes a long, slow sip of the whiskey and hands it back before she drinks too much; this isn’t a conversation she wants to have, or one she’s ready to have -- then again, she hasn’t been ready for much of anything in Andromeda, and there’s a certain atmosphere to the evening that’s making her brave. “I moved around a lot,” she explains. “Worked five jobs in four years — _six_ , if you count the fact that I’d just started training for a position in C-Sec. I didn’t last long in the Alliance, tech support requires a bit more of a ‘by the book’ personality,” she begins to list off, counting on her fingers as she goes, “working as a bouncer was great until the club was shut down because of all the violence in the Wards, private security was even better until the Alliance showed up on Horizon and my employer moved even further out into the Terminus. Mom got me a job doing security on the nightshift at the labs she worked in back in Brazil but that… that didn’t last long, either.”

Reyes watches her, enraptured; there’s an odd sort of softness to his gaze, like he actually _wants_ to take in all of these useless assorted facts about Sophie, and she finds it more confusing than endearing. “I was a pilot,” he says suddenly, in a halting sort of tone as if he’s just as uncomfortable as Sophie is; he either recovers quickly or is just better at hiding it, because when he speaks again his voice is as warm and even as ever. “Mostly for the Alliance, sometimes not. I… spent a lot of time burning bridges, back in the Milky Way. By the time I’d signed up for the Initiative, I’d already lost anyone I’d be leaving behind.” He takes another drink, avoiding Sophie’s gaze and staring out across Kadara. “You?”

“A couple exes who wouldn’t miss me. One that would. And Scott was already a part of the Initiative.” She’s always been good with friendships that are simple and easy to leave behind; what she has with Liam and Gil and Vetra — and even Reyes, she supposes — had begun as quick and sudden as ever, but there aren’t as many places to run, now, and she’s just continued to grow closer to them all.

But everyone she had in the Milky Way? She’d already moved on by the time she was put into cryo. Or, like Reyes, she'd already lost them.

“What about you, Reyes?” she asks abruptly, in an attempt to turn the attention away from her. “I came to Andromeda because fuck it, why not. But why’d you come?”

He’s silent for a moment, lips pursed, and Sophie can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. “To be someone.”

It’s as cryptic of an answer as it is profound, and Sophie accepts it with a little smile. “Look at us, being all honest and genuine tonight. Must be this priceless whiskey,” she teases, her mood beginning to sour with as sincere — and, quite honestly, _dreary_ — the conversation is becoming.

“I’m always genuine,” Reyes defends, holding up the bottle as an example, “in my own way.”

Sophie suspects that he intends the statement to be entirely serious, but it makes her laugh, regardless. “If stealing booze is your brand of _genuine_ , I like it.”

“ _Booze,_ ” he repeats, muttering the word under his breath with a slow shake of his head. “You have no appreciation for just how special this is, do you?”

“I like to drink,” she snorts. “That doesn’t exactly make me a connoisseur of fine alcohol.”

“I can see that.”

“So stop worrying about the fancy whiskey.” Sophie takes the bottle and sets it aside before turning to Reyes, flashing him a lopsided grin. “Rooftop, sunset, pretty girl — I think you have better things to concern yourself with, hmm?”

He’s still giving her that look — the one that’s so soft and sincere that it’s almost disarming — and she almost thinks he isn’t going to answer, but he carefully brings one hand up to cup her cheek, drawing her closer until their lips meet in a kiss that’s slow and sweet and nothing like Sophie’s come to expect from Reyes. Even as they part, he lets his forehead rest against hers, and she’s torn between completely drinking in the moment and ruining it all by dragging him back to the Tempest right then.

She settles for something in the middle, pulling him in for another kiss, one that’s more heated and more intense and she catches his lip in her teeth as he pulls back; despite the moan he lets out against her lips, he continues to lean away.

“I’m glad you came back for the party,” he tells her. “Even if I did make a mess of it.”

Sophie’s a bit nonplussed at her advances being so thoroughly ignored, but does her best to push it aside. “ _Make a mess of it_?” she repeats, incredulous. “Are you kidding? I’ve had more fun here tonight than I have the entire rest of the time I’ve been in Andromeda. I’m still hoping it’s the kinda night that ends in no pants, but I’d settle for a solid second base evening.”

Reyes laughs, loud and clear over the rooftops, and wraps an arm around Sophie’s waist and pulls her close, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “Ever the optimist,” he chuckles. “With… with the way everything’s going, I just wanted to make sure that you knew how much I value whatever this is we have.”

She isn’t sure she’s had enough of Reyes’ fancy whiskey for a conversation like this, but Sophie lays her head on his shoulder and turns her attention back to the city that’s spread out before them, bathed in the warm glow of the sunset. “Yeah, we are pretty great, aren’t we?”

* * *

 

He sometimes forgets the look of a city at night.

Andromeda doesn’t have the wide, sprawling metropolises that the Milky Way did. Everything’s too new, or too angaran — Kadara’s an exception to this, in a way, in that it’s a winding mess of a city, all crowded streets and grimy alleyways and buzzing neon lights. It’s big and alive and so _human_ , and it almost makes Reyes miss Earth.

He’s come up here several times before, to watch the sun set — or rise — and by now he’s certain he could draw a map of this part of the city from memory.

And that’s the problem, he thinks; so much of his time up here is spent _studying_ , looking without seeing, and for all his focus on the port he’s missed the rest of Kadara. There’s the mountains and plains and the unfamiliar expanse of stars above them, and the sheer expanse of it all would take his breath away if he could ever tear his gaze from the streets below; a city at night is as much about being a burning dot on the horizon as it is shadows in alleyways, after all, and sometimes Reyes just _forgets_.

Maybe it’s deliberate. Out there, he gets swept up in how much everything is, gets lost in all the people — the refugees and the heros and the ones who just keep their heads down — and it takes someone like Sophie, someone with such a force of personality to sway nations, to claw their way to significance. But here, in Kadara?

Here, Reyes has made a name for himself. He doesn’t have to see the beauty of the city to _know_ Kadara, to understand its streets and its people and the way it all works.

He studies the city, and that’s how he knows it’s time for the Collective to make their move.

It’s odd, really — or cruel, he hasn’t decided — to come to this realization now, sitting over the city with Sophie. They’ve moved back so they’re no longer at the edge of the roof, and Sophie lies sprawled out on the roof with her head in his lap, regaling him with stories of her travels in Andromeda while he plays with her hair.

In the stillness of the night, all he can think is that he can’t possibly ask her to face Sloane.

That was the original plan, after all — send the Pathfinder after the Outcasts, use Initiative resources to chip away at their power base, and let the Collective quietly reassemble the pieces without ever revealing the Charlatan.

But now, Reyes knows he needs an alternative solution; Sophie’s done her job just a little too well, and Sloane now harbors such a distaste for her that he has concerns about how a confrontation between them would go. But maybe he’d be concerned anyway.

It’s not that he doesn’t think she can take Sloane down — it’s the tightness in his chest whenever he considers the chance that something might happen to Sophie. He’s taken a chance on her, in more ways than one, and when he looks at her all he can see are all those chances that he can’t bear to give up on. She’s so beautiful, wreathed in the shadow of the night and the glow of the city below; she’s smiling up at him with that lopsided grin, and her eyes are bright and mischievous and suddenly, Sloane is the last thing on his mind.

He wants to kiss her.

Not like he usually does — it’s always a lead up, a promise of something more, whether it’s sex or goodbye — but just because he _can_. He wants to go slow, to take his time and hold her and find some way to convey just how much she’s come to mean to him.

But she’s _Sophie_ , and she lives life too fast and lets the details slip through the cracks while she marvels at the bigger picture. Maybe she doesn’t notice the quiet, contemplative look he’s giving her, or maybe she does see it but doesn’t recognize it; either way, she sits up and wraps her arms loosely around her legs, staring out over the city with that same look of amazement she’s had all evening.

“It’s getting late,” she says, glancing back at Reyes. “I told Vetra I’d help out with some contraband popcorn deal in the morning, then we’ve gotta head back to the Hyperion.”

“You have news on your brother?” Reyes doesn’t know too much about the other Ryder, besides that he’s strikingly handsome and a talented engineer, and Sophie’s rare updates on him have been restricted to _he_ _’s in a coma_ and _he_ _’s still in a coma._ Even so, he knows it worries her, and he has a suspicion that what little bit Sophie’s admitted to him is far from the full extent of her fears and anxieties about Scott.

But she shakes her head. “Nah, just checking in on him. Maybe tell him about this great party I went to, and the asshole who dragged me away from it.” Sophie tilts her head back to grin at him, and he can’t hold back a smile of his own at the way she tries to stifle her laughter. “Apparently the captain of the Hyperion wants to talk to me,” she reveals, tone sobering a bit. “I guess I’m the one they turn to when there’s an emergency these days.”

“If there’s any way I can help, you know where to find me.” He isn’t sure what he’s offering, exactly, since the problems of the Nexus hardly have anything to do with Kadara. He offers nonetheless, because Sophie’s brow is furrowed and she’s biting at her lip and she looks so _worried_ that he can’t keep from trying to help.

“Sure do.” With that she stands and stretches, then holds a hand out to Reyes. “I appreciate the view but honestly, this roof is really uncomfortable.”

He laughs, then takes her hand and lets her pull him to his feet; he doesn’t let go, and brings his other hand up to cup her cheek. It feels like there’s a hundred things he wants to tell her — how beautiful she is, how much he enjoys spending time with her, the way he planned and fretted over this party for weeks and even if it didn’t go at all according to plan it was somehow better — but nothing feels _right_ , not here, not with Sophie, and with a pang Reyes wonders if it’ll always feel like they’re headed in different directions. As much as Sophie’s always seemed enthusiastic about their… _this_ — whether it’s a relationship or a hook up or something in between — he suspects they want different things out of it.

Sophie’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “You know what would be super fucking romantic right now? If you kissed me.”

“I was considering it.”

“It’s the aesthetic of it, y’know? The nightlife and the rooftop, and everything?” She pauses, and when she speaks again there’s a mischievous edge to her voice. “I might also just like kissing you.”

“How can I argue against logic like that?” So he kisses her, and she presses up on her toes and presses up against him and he thinks — in what little part of his mind isn’t entirely distracted by Sophie — that it doesn’t matter where this thing goes, as long as it goes _somewhere_ and they get the chance for more nights like this.

It’s Sophie who breaks the kiss, to Reyes’ surprise, and she glances off towards the docks with a frustrated frown. “Tell them I said _yes_ ,” she mutters beneath her breath. To Reyes, she clarifies, “SAM informs me that my wonderful friends aboard the Tempest want to know if I was murdered in a back alley. That probably means it’s time for me to head back.”

“I’m offended,” he declares, voice filled with mock outrage. “I would never let you be murdered in a back alley.”

“And I’d kick your ass if you _did_ let me be murdered in a back alley,” she agrees enthusiastically, already beginning to lead the way back down. “I don’t know what they’re worried about.”

In a way, Reyes is _glad_ that they’re worried — even if he suspects that her crew is more suspicious of him than they are the rest of the city — because Sophie’s surrounded by good people who _care_ about her. And maybe it’s selfish, but he likes knowing that she’ll have someone watching her back even when she’s not on Kadara. He doesn’t say it aloud, though, and simply spends the trip enjoying Sophie’s presence.

There’s no rush as they walk back, hand in hand, through the winding streets back to where the Tempest is docked. Reyes does know a little something about first date etiquette — not that it means much, for them, given that they’re going about this all backwards — and as they reach the ship he gives her a kiss that’s positively chaste.

“I’m glad you had a good evening. Even despite… everything.”

His words draw a confused frown from Sophie. “Yeah, I did.” Her brow furrows. “Are you leaving?”

“I was going to,” he admits. “It… occurred to me that I have business to take care of. Unless you’d like me to stay?” Reyes isn’t planning on offering to stay, but the offer slips out regardless; this business with Sloane isn’t something he’s looking forward to, and spending time with Sophie is something he’s always looking forward to, so when she gives him an admonishing look he knows he’s hers for the rest of the night.

He’s waited this long to take down Sloane; for Sophie, he can certainly wait one more day.

 


End file.
